


Rekindled Love

by ninathechindianwriter



Category: Enola Holmes (2020)
Genre: Reminiscing, Tewky is a good dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27317515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninathechindianwriter/pseuds/ninathechindianwriter
Summary: A short fic where Tewksbury takes some time alone to introduce his son to a long lost family member whom he misses very much.
Relationships: Enola Holmes/Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury
Comments: 7
Kudos: 127





	Rekindled Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Since many of you here don't follow my tumblr, I'll take a moment to explain some headcanons that will make this fic make more sense:  
> 1\. Tewksbury and Enola have three children: Rose, Violet, and Harold. I'm sure you're very familiar with Rose from my other stories, but I'll be writing more about the other kids now as well.  
> 2\. Tewksbury's name is William. I've seen a lot of other people do this and I was thinking about changing it when I saw it was taken, but he looks too much like a William not to!  
> 3\. His father's name is Harold, and thus Tewksbury names his son to honor his father.

“Well it looks like it’s just you and me, my little friend,” Tewksbury said softly as he looked down at the bundle in his arms. 

The hall was blissfully quiet as he made his way towards the portrait gallery. The past few days have been a blur with all the celebration and chaos that came along with it. After all, the birth of a noble child, especially a male one, was cause for great celebration. The hall was buzzing with activity in preparation for the formal celebration that would occur once Enola was recovered from birth, and in addition to all the activity was the excitement of his daughters. However, he was finally alone with his newborn son. There were no orders to give or daughters to chase. They were currently with their uncle Sherlock, who came to visit to help out since he was not currently solving a case. Enola was currently sleeping and that’s when Tewksbury decided to take the newborn for a walk. 

As they neared the portrait gallery, the baby began to stir. Tewksbury smiled down at him as they walked through the gallery, passing under the watchful gazes of their ancestors. He always felt uncomfortable in this room and always felt the paintings were judging him. It wasn’t entirely false to say that they weren’t, as his accomplishments were small compared to theirs and at times he felt he wasn’t worthy of his 500 year old lineage. However, he did not come to the gallery to dwell in their judgement and continued down towards a large painting in the middle of the room. A painting with kinder and warmer eyes than the rest. 

He cleared his throat as he looked up at the painting, standing still as a mountain. 

“Father, we meet again,” he said slowly as he began to rock the now fussing baby in his arms. He then froze again, unsure of what to say. He only came to see the painting ever so often and most of his visits were important moments, such as the births of his children and important moments in his political career. It felt stupid at times. Him, a grown man, talking to his father’s painting. However, despite constant reminders from his uncle and mother that his father would be proud, he still felt the need to speak to him. To see him. 

“Father,” he said again, taking another step closer to the painting. “This is your grandson.” He looked down at the baby again, beaming. “Quite a handsome fellow.”

The baby stopped squirming and now had his hand held out. Tewksbury gave him his hand and grinned as he felt tiny fingers wrap around his large pointer finger. 

“We named him after you. Harold. Harold James.” He felt a warm tear fall down his cheek. “He has Mother’s big blue eyes. They’re so beautiful.”

He stood for a few more moments, eyes darting between Harold and his father. 

“I will teach him everything you taught me, Father. I promise. I hope to be as great a father to him as you were to me in our short time together.” He paused before speaking again. “I should tell you how your granddaughters are doing while I’m here. I think you may have seen them recently. They love to come in here and try to replicate the paintings. Aren’t they beautiful? Rose is just like me and Violet...oh, she’s a funny one. Much like her mother. She’s always up to some adventure.”

Tewksbury looked down at Harold, who appears to have fallen back asleep. He leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead before looking up again.

“Thank you, Father,” he said as he backed up. “Until we meet again.”

At that, he turned around and made his way out of the portrait gallery, Just as he turned the corner to head back to his bedroom to check on Enola, he heard laughter. He turned to look out the nearest window and there they were. Sherlock and his little girls. Violet was sitting on his shoulders and she appeared to be laughing while Rose skipped along, flowers in hand. Tewksbury assumed they were for Enola. With a smile, he turned back towards the corridor as he adjusted Harold once more. 

“I think your mummy will be up soon,” he cooed. “Why don’t we head back and meet her and your sisters? I think they will be all happy to see you.”

Harold grunted in his sleep and Tewksbury took that as a ‘yes’. He quickly picked up his pace, looking forward to the quiet family evening he had been wanting for almost a week.


End file.
